


Artificial

by filthinbeau



Category: KAT-TUN (Band)
Genre: A bit of UST, Alternate Universe, M/M, Post-Apocalypse, doppleganger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-10
Updated: 2014-08-10
Packaged: 2018-02-12 13:16:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2111292
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/filthinbeau/pseuds/filthinbeau
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He took another glance back at his faux, not wondering if he's any good with a blade and weaponry, but did wonder if he’s anywhere as good with emotions as the genuine article.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Artificial

 

There was some little nagging doubt gnawing at the back of his mind. Something that quietly murmured, is this really a good idea? Granted, it seemed a bit too late to go back now. After all the barricades, it took him a while to get in. Because this was an opportunity and it didn't happen very often, he told himself. A way to potentially getting at least a tiny little picture of the political sphere of this new world, and to find 'himself'.

It wasn't like he didn't realise there were probably doubles of people running around, as the result of genetic experiments to create the next generations for a new world order. And then there was this old saying that at least another six people would have almost the same facial feature as you, but not exactly the same where the only actual difference is their designation and bar code. It was creepy but he didn't think he would be all surprised if one day an identical twin showed up. It would be weird for sure he thought back then.

But everything in his life was already weird. He hung out with a wolf-man with sharp, long and shiny nails and just some minutes ago handing a large chunks of white bread to a skinny guy with crab claws for hands and hideously huge parrot beak for a nose.

He stopped by the warriors’ guild, and he nearly smile. Really, what a crazy coincidence; this was precisely where he was planning on going himself, once he gained his bearings. The warrior class would be perfect for him, after all, given his history with swordsmanship and all those training he had gone so far. He established a possible position for a clearer view from shielding behind the wall but still keeping the guard of himself high. To be caught off and thrown into the deepest dungeon of the secret military basement wasn't even an option at this moment. 

Across the pathway he saw _him_.

It was freaking unnerving to finally found a copy of himself. Identical, yes. Twins, maybe but it sounded terrible. But hey, maybe the two of them could be co-warriors. Clone? Doppelgangers? Or brothers in arms, whatever they called it. That would be kind of fucking awesome, he just had to admit. His clone had a slightly different shape of body, more muscular and well fit and that guy had a really lame haircut. The hair is flat at the top, giving an almost squarish shape to the head.

The difference made them... different. He let out a breath he wasn't aware he was holding. He was sure it was inferiority that he was feeling, but at the same time it wasn't, to see his other self looking all bulking up and stoic. Strong and buff, yet emotionless. Just standing there next to a door and sometimes talking to another passing by soldier, expressionless. He's better of labeled as a robot. The similarity was uncanny. And really it was fucked up and sickening in the stomach.

"You find what you're looking for?" A voice, deep. And then a low huff. "The resemblance is striking, you know.”

He lost his long train of thought when a figure (a man? a thief? a soldier?) slid up behind and purred into his ear. It’s almost enough to make him start, but — shit, no, keep it cool. Judging from the warm breath tickling the back of his nape this person must be shorter than him and then there's this distinctive smell of perfume that guy was emitting, the one where he was pretty sure fall into the effeminate side. But scratch that, the scent was without doubt nice and...inviting.

Other than that, though, he's pretty sure the man pressed something hard at his back.

He didn't raise a smirk, putting a laid back attitude instead of panicking. “That a concealed weapon or are you just excited to see me?”

The guy did smirk however. “Both?”

"Say, your business here?” Taguchi asked the assaulter, with more offhanded confidence than he was actually feeling at the moment. “I’m a pretty busy guy. So if you’re looking to rob me, I got some bad news for you. In this backpack is just a whole lot of empty space. And an orange, if that counts.” The one he forgot to give to the beak-man earlier.

"Oh, hush,” the guy replied. He pressed the sharp surface of what Taguchi could make out now as knife even more rough on his backside, pricking the skin. Seriously, who would've thought getting rob in this kind of place, with this kind of situation?

"Knife? Classic."

"There's an art of a knife-play. Not everyone could master it." The stranger was kinda boasting, Taguchi noticed. But the contact of the knife on his skin was starting to hurting, and his fingers twitched, itching to go for his gun, to brandish some tangible control of the situation, but for all intents and purposes he was hoping this guy was just chatting him up.

No need to wig out. Just some friendly conversation, except with a knife digging his back, of course. Taguchi plastered on some of his faux-casualness and bright attitude. "Then you're not someone to be mess with, huh?" he said. 

It wasn't meant for a provocation, only making an effort to lighten up the atmosphere even for a little bit. He didn't need a further conflict, not when there was obviously a high risk that both of them (especially him) would get busted. No response, but just some rustling behind him until the guy simply straight up questioning him of the only thing he hated the most. "He's you, right?"

Taguchi shrugged. “Sorta.” Because technically, yes. And perhaps biologically too. If there's a different between the two, though.

"Certainly a good fit for the warrior class,” the man mused, leaning over to rest his chin on Taguchi's shoulder from behind. Obviously he’s short, a fair bit shorter than him, and he could feel his breath against the shell of his ear even more. What a way for a friendly conversations. “They really tailored him well, he got the build for it at any rate. And the fortitude, judging by that posture.” From the tone, it appeared the guy didn't simply praise his faux, but more like he was holding something against it.

He swore he dug the knife into the small of his back as he said it, forcefully so to stop him from slouching.

"Yes, I think he really made a fine addition to the warriors’ guild,” said the man again, with a nod and chuckles against his neck. “And I think if you stick close to him, you might be just fine..”

That was...almost stings. Taguchi kept his face straight, though, and gritted on his teeth trying to hold himself down. So by all rights and finding the open opportunity when the knife was now not really being pressed as hard as before, Taguchi finally spun around to confront the son of a bitch who most probably had been shadowing him most of the night and taking control of the hand that was gripping the knife. 

The weapon dropped to the ground and having the upper hand in the stranger's surprised state Taguchi grabbed the collar of his jacket, trapping him close and for a moment there inspecting the finer points of his face. The guy was clearly taken aback but didn't quite show his whole emotion on his face, looking straight up into Taguchi's eyes as he asked with ragged breaths, in tones of feigned curiosity, “Whatever could you mean by that, sir?”

He could feel the sense of huge relief crawling inside him after facing the man. From the way that guy was dressed in, he was clearly an outsider, not from this guild, not even showing any hint that he was a soldier there.

"Easy on the ‘sir', mate. I am nowhere far from your age.” That man with the short and dark hair spoke, his eyes were scanning all over Taguchi's facial features, as if to prove that he got the right fact. “And besides, I only meant that…Well, it’s okay if you can’t make it on your own as a warrior, when you’ve already got another 'you' as a representative there.”

He took another glance back at his faux, not wondering if he's any good with a blade and weaponry, but did wonder if he’s anywhere as good with emotions as the genuine article. But Taguchi knew he could show him up in a sword fight with the same practiced nonchalance as his past (or else his faux wouldn't be there guarding the place). Suddenly, all his visions of the “mercenary brothers” begin to slip into disappointment.

There’s no way he could match him. Not right off the bat. It would probably take him yet another months to learn the same shit this artificial could learn in weeks. Days, even. Actually no. They would never be equals, even though they shared the same DNA. These fraud human were programmed for battles, for a fight, and he could just be tossed aside easily like a garbage. Stepped on like a dust particle.

He had practiced a poker face well enough to know none of this seeps into his expression. And finally turned his head and look directly into the strange man’s bright, narrowed eyes.

“Who the hell says I wanna be a warrior, anyway?”

He blinked, actually not faking a surprise. “Don’t you?”

"Hell no. And ended up just like that guy over there? All nerdy lame looking and such? No way.” He wasn't lying to be honest, at least not on the part where he would be plain and unfashionable.

Taguchi decided it was time to let the guy's collar go after a moment of silence, shoving him away after the guy didn't fight him back. Putting on a little smirk he watched the way the shorter man reached down to grab for his unattended knife. _Smooth._ Only then Taguchi noticed he was almost forgetting about the little injury on the back if not for the sting he felt, but he was more intently focused on the intruder (not that he wasn't one anyway) in front of him, giving him an appraising look while he cleaned and later sheathed his weapon.

"Well, if you’re free for hire, why not consider joining us?” he asked, innocently. “We could use a guy like you, you know.”

"Oh, yeah?” Taguchi leaned back a little, against a nearby fence. “What kind of guy is that, exactly? Handsome? Tall?”

The man stepped forward with confidence never leaving his striking features, and Taguchi resisted the impulse to run away that he even wondered if he ever needed to, particularly as he leaned in, and he was pretty sure it was drawing him in, charming and hypnotising. Like he’s going to shamelessly collide their lips together and oh god it was so damn wrong.

"No, Junnosuke,” he said instead, mere inches away from his face, fixing their eyes securely, and smouldering right deep into his soul. “What we need is a good liar.”

Something like a sound of cannon roared and Taguchi jumped, allowing himself to look away for a split second; it was all the dark-haired needed to disappear completely from his sight. He swallowed hard.

He turned again at the clone from the distance for one last look. Clutching tightly to the back pack he was carrying Taguchi contemplated at first before coming with a decision; to spend the rest of the day trying to seek out the stranger, to know where he was coming from, what organisation he was in, and most importantly his purpose. Also a name that he possessed.

But every cautious step on the ground caused his focus to wander, if the stranger was any good to be trusted. There were a thousand ways this could go wrong, and he was already counting them.

 


End file.
